Definition
by Xyxephrien
Summary: July, 1997. An experimental hybrid is rescued from an inhumane prison. Six years later, she's nearly human again... just in time for Kira to twist and destroy her life.
1. Chapter One

One .:1311 words

* * *

><p>Alright. Please just bear with me for a while- or skip straight to the action a few paragraphs down if you like. No? Good.<p>

Firstly, this is a one-off Author's Note, to get down everything important about the story at this point in time; so you won't have one clogging your bandwidth every chapter. Good news, right?

Two: this is extremely OC-centric, and deals with themes like death, abuse and rape, mainly in the first two chapters but recurring later on. So if any of this disturbs you, do not read further.

Three: I repeat, this story will not be all fluffy romance and cut-and-paste manga scenes. I'm fleshing out from the original series, which will include entirely new parts pre-canon to establish a credible backstory for the OC and not just give her informed attributes. Also, while I can't deny there may be some LxOC moments, the end will most likely end up being inspired by Story of the Century , and not your usual Lawli loves Mary and they live happily every after.

Four: I'm not perfect, I can admit that. I'm not infallible and I do make mistakes. So please, if you see any, from bad grammar to major OOC, please don't hesitate to tell me. I'm not saying that just to get more reviews, I genuinely mean it.

Five: You may notice a bit confusing language here. Bear in mind that, while this is in third person, it is at this point in time told from the point of view of the as-yet-unnamed protagonist who has no concept of our way of looking at or describing things. I've tried to show this in the language I've used, so it may be difficult to follow.

Oh, by the way, any good betas out there with Death Note experience? This would be much appreciated...

And finally... thank you for making it this far. I sincerely mean this; all you authors out there will know the feeling you get when you get a hit on your precious baby. It's great, so thank you for reading this. And, without further ado, my baby.

* * *

><p>Definition Chapter One: The Language Barrier<p>

* * *

><p>From her earliest memories, the room has been empty. She has no name, no concept of a name or identification or language or companionship, does not and cannot even <em>comprehend<em> these things. She simply _is_, a creature barely sentient, and speaks in small sounds and whimpers. She has had nobody to teach her properly, an experiment that has evolved on her own to form her own sort of communication. As for those watching her, they have learned a little of her speech, enough to know when she is hungry or bored but little else.

The room is not very big, but spacious enough for her to live in. At one end is a soft pile of blankets and a flap that makes food; the other, the place she does waste. The walls are smooth and cold, and shimmer faintly in what light there is. She has her own sounds for these phenomena, and says them quietly to herself sometimes.

Every day after she eats, she hears the Open Noise - the wall behind her slides open with a crash, and she follows the memorised route to a larger room. It is filled with gleaming and matte objects, most of which move when she pushes in parts of them. They are fun, as much as she can apply that idea, and she likes the running and throwing and hitting.

The scientists watching her note this down with smug superiority - the pet experiment is following the master plan perfectly, and they don't need an intelligent creature to train her to kill.

After a while has passed and her sides heave and ache, the Open Noise happens again and she goes to a third room the size of the first with a hole full of water. She dislikes the wetness instinctively, but knows she has to use it to get the itchiness and stickiness off of her. It's hard to keep clean otherwise, especially the softer patch of stuff that grows from her head down to her waist, the same bright colour as the walls around her.

Then the routine is complete when she is dry, and she returns to the food-room to sleep and begin the cycle again.

* * *

><p>Only, this time is different. One of those observing her realised that she was almost eight and knows no language. How can a tool follow instructions she does not understand? So, the next time the Open Noise sounds a different part of the wall slides apart.<p>

She creeps through cautiously, light on her feet and silent. On the other side is a room the colour of her arms, when they're clean, but as bright as the stuff on her head. Inside the ground is soft and slightly scratchy, the shade of the cold-walls and springy beneath her feet and hands. In the room is an object like one of those from the Second Room, but covered in blankets and oddly shaped.

And on it is a creature, so unusual as to drawn her attention from the noise-making circle on the wall and the flat black rectangle beneath it. She approaches it slowly, curiosity piqued, and examines it when it shows no discomfort. It reminds her of herself, oddly.

She notes the things that are the same as she paces around it. It has interesting-smelling softness on its head, but shorter than hers- it reaches the end of its head and no further. It is also shadowy like the middle of its eyes, between the ring of some indeterminate colour she has never seen before and has no name for. The most unusual thing, though, is its skin; it is a dark hue like its eyes. It smells like her, though a little different, and she recognises that this creature is like her.

She makes a questioning sound at it, and it shows her its bright teeth, the colour of the Clean Room. She likes to think about different colours, she realises, and compare them to other things she is more familiar with.

It lifts its hand and touches it to her head, and she feels a pleasant sort of languidness. At ease, she climbs onto the object it is sitting on and makes herself comfortable, sprawled lazily across its legs with her own curled to her chest. It continues to put its hand on her head and it feels nice.

Then the rectangle becomes coloured, and she almost jumps in fright - would have, too, if she were not so comfortable. There is an image on it, almost of the creature she is on but a little different in its colours. She reaches out to touch it, marvelling at how it fit there, but finds her fingers halted by something cool and transparent.

"Human." It makes a sound, then waits. She waits, too, then has a moment of understanding.

"Hyu-min?" she tries. It is her first attempt at any sort of official language, and will not be her last.

Now, every day after she is clean, she goes to the Image Room and stays there until the circle's slowest hand passes four marks. It is difficult to learn all the sounds that the creature - Doktersheeang - makes, but she tries very hard. Some things she does not understand, and is confused as to what they are, but she learns them anyway.

For example, while Doktersheeang is also 'human', she is a 'hybrid'. She wonders why it has two words but she has only one, and asks it in a roundabout way.

"You-" this means her too, but not specifically. This word belongs to any person but the speaker. "-don't-" a negative possessive. "-have-" to show ownership. "-a-" to define a singular. "-name." This last word confuses her, but she takes it to mean a specific word thar belongs to something. After all, there are many creatures called human but only one is Doktersheeang. There is also Dokterjoenz, Doktermarsh, Dokteryamashita- but they are all human, and doctor, so maybe they are actually Sheeang, Joenz, Marsh and Yamashita? She asks Doktersheeang, and is excited to learn she is right.

So she learns words and numbers from Doctor Sheeang, then how to put them into marks on paper. It turns out that Sheeang is actually Xiang, and that and 'X' can be said like a 'Z' or 'Eks' or 'Cross' or 'Sh', and it is quite confusing. She eventually learns it all, though.

After a while, when she is taller, Doctor Xiang gives her a book. It is full of words - all of them, in fact. After that she doesn't see Doctor Xiang again but reads the book in the Image Room by herself and learns what all the words in it mean - although some she can only associate loose connotations to, and thus they are meaningless.

For example, she knows that for a new creature to be born two sexually mature ones must procreate, but she doesn't know what the emotional attachments associated with parents are. And anyway, she wasn't born from a mature female carrying its young, but was genetically constructed from one of Doctor Xiang's reproduction-capable cells and inserted with genetic material from a feline, which makes her an interordinal hybrid rather than a human.

One day, Doctor Jones tells her she is now twelve years old. She thinks that now she might need a name, and asks him.

"No," he says. "Only humans are allowed names." She agrees, but privately decides to think of one for herself - one that sounds nice, though, and not something silly like 'Jones'.

After a while, she realises she likes to call herself Cat - because, if she is not human, then she is logically the other fraction of her genetic material. So she is Cat, and she is sixteen years old when she discovers that the world is much larger than she ever imagined.


	2. Chapter Two

Two .:1226 words

Definition Chapter Two: Agoraphobia

* * *

><p>When Cat is fifteen, or so, she one day wakes with a an odd feeling in her system. It is unexpected, to say the least, and so she spends a good thirty-five minutes contemplating it. From the human side of things, this would logically be the point when she would begin menstruation - but there is no sign of blood, so that option must be ruled out. Another possibility is that she has just recently entered sexual maturity and this is the instinct to procreate, which is probably not the case, as it is unlikely there are males of her species to breed with.<p>

Although, she remembers, in her studies, that female felines enter a two-week period of fertility during which she excretes different pheromones and hormones - it must be the latter's effect she senses in her system. It is perfectly natural, then, for her to feel an increased urge to seek out a potential mate to exchange genetic material with.

When Cat expresses her concerns to Doctor Jones and asks him how you even /did/ mating in the first place, he gets a new and unusual look in his eye as he inspects her unclothed body. She has never needed garments; only humans are to wear them, and animals are not, and she is an animal after all. A moment passes and Doctor Jones smiles secretively, before asking her to wait while he adjusts the monitoring cameras.

* * *

><p>After more extensive testing, Cat is told that she is sterile. That goes against her nature a little (she has always secretly wanted kittens), but in a way it is good. She knows that her life is far from perfect, far from safe, and she would not wish it upon her offspring. Instead she waits out her periods of heat, sometimes assisted by one of the doctors, and mourns her nonexistent, potential children.<p>

Although, she does wonder why anyone even did mating in the first place, if it was so awkward and uncomfortable.

* * *

><p>A few years later Cat is fully grown. She seemed to have inherited a human's lifespan, fortunately, and she appreciates this. It would do her no good to die now, even if she never did produce young to pass on her genetic material. So, at sixteen years old, she has only lived an approximate fifth of her life and this is good.<p>

Perhaps one day soon she will be outside.

Until then, she continues the cycle she has lived for one and a half decades - eat, exercise, wash, read. It is simple, easy and familiar. If she had wanted, she could have walked the corridors blindfolded.

She also gains a new instructor. His name is Aidan, and he is not a doctor. He says he is a teacher, but not like Doctor Xiang was. He is a teacher of things like fighting and running and hiding and trickery - he is very good at that last one, too. He has convinced Cat of so many ridiculous things that she becomes more skeptical and believes very little of what he says anymore.

And then one day, he takes her aside to whisper in her ear. "Cat," he says (she has told him all of her little secrets by now), "I have a very powerful friend who wants to help you. If I get you out of here, he'll look after you. But only if you want to."

"Out?" She is confused, her ears flattened nervously as she whispers back, wise enough for that. "What is out?"

And then Aidan has the saddest, most heartbroken expression on his face, and she does not know why. "Outside. Where the sun, the sky and grass is. Where there's wind and light and everything else. What do you think?"

Cat considers it for a long time. "I think," she says finally, "that that sounds impossible, like a dream. I think I would like that very much, could it happen."

"It will," he says fervently. "I promise you, Cat, you will leave this hellhole."

She doesn't believe him. She doesn't even believe that there is an outside - it sounds like a fairytale, a non-existent hope. But… she nods and goes along with the fantasy, though. Who could blame her for dreaming?

* * *

><p>Two weeks later, Aidan returns with a friend. She has yellow hair and fake black eyes with smoke curling up from inside her mouth. She says her name is Wendy, and apparently the cameras and door don't work any more. She takes Cat's hand and leads her through the maze of corridors.<p>

Doctor Jones meets them later, and he has a gun. "You're not taking it," he says, his voice high-pitched. He has blood spattered on his white coat. "It's ours! We made it!"

Wendy steps forward languidly, crushing her cigarette under the toe of on boot. "Yes, you engineered the perfect assassin. It's too bad she has a mind of her own."

Doctor Jones' eyes start to look in different directions and spittle flies from his mouth. "You won't have it! I'll kill it first, just you watch me!"

"I don't think so." That was Aidan. "You see, when you do what you did to an underaged, unaware girl? That can get you a few years in prison. I know people that can pull strings and get you in there for life - and I have friends on the inside, too. What you did to Cat? Imagine how you'll end up after karma gets back at you."

"Stay where you are!" Doctor Jones shrieks, his voice cracking. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you all-"

But while he had been flailing his weapon at Wendy and Aidan, Doctor Jones had inadvertently turned away from Cat. She moved with the silence and grace taught to her, stalking up behind him and urging a claw into the point on his neck Aidan had shown her a month ago. His face immediately became purple and he fell to the ground, gasping and unconscious.

"Come on, Cat," says Aidan, discarding Doctor Jones and walking away. "Let's get you out of here."

And she does not look back, not even once. She simply follows Aidan and Wendy through the endless corridors and stairs, until-

Until...

Outside. She had never imagined it could be so big, so huge and empty. The sky is blue, just like the images Doctor Xiang showed her. There is grass some distance away, and the ground is concrete for a few metres in every direction. From the looks of things Cat had been beneath the ground... for nineteen years.

The agoraphobia strikes her mercilessly. The air is too sharp, the sun too bright and the wind too cold. Cat has never been cold before, not ever. She knew what it was, of course, but had never experienced it herself. Words and images, that was all she knew about anything. She shrinks back, clawing anxiously at the unforgiving ground as she retreats towards the stairs.

"I-I... I can't!" she squeaks. "There's just too much!"

Wendy seems to understand. "It's alright, hon. He thought this might happen - I've got a blindfold, if that would help." Her eyes downcast, Cat nods shakily, ignoring the instinct to flee as heavy black cloth is tied around her head. She instantly begins to relax as her senses are... cut off... and that's a weird... smell...


End file.
